


Down the River

by AdventTraitor



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: M/M, Sinja
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 05:40:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7878643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdventTraitor/pseuds/AdventTraitor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ja'far has been through many experiences at his king's side, but none have been quite so odd as the one they find themselves thrown into now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Down the River

**Author's Note:**

> To celebrate the new season of OUAT coming out on Netflix today, here's my little AU from my favorite pairing there, Captain Swan. :3

Ja’far woke with a start, sitting up quickly and immediately regretting it. He winced, cradling his head in his hands as a sharp pain shot through his skull. After it subsided several moments later, he chanced a look around, seeing trees, a forest all around him. A glance to the left showed a well-traveled trail some distance away, and a glance behind showed…

“Sin!”

He stood, nearly toppling over as his head swam in pain at the sudden movement once again, but he pushed it down as he fell to his knees beside his king, relief flooding through his veins as he saw the rise and fall of Sinbad’s chest. He didn’t sense anybody else nearby, thankfully, but he kept watch regardless; forests were full of easy hiding spots, and even he couldn’t see everything. Looking back to his king, there weren’t any obvious injuries or signs of internal bleeding, Ja’far determined after as thorough an examination as he was able to give, and his spirits improved immensely as Sinbad began to stir. Ja’far brushed a few wisps of dark hair from Sinbad’s eyes as he grimaced, likely in as much pain as Ja’far had been when he first woke.

With a groan, Sinbad began to sit up, Ja’far helping with an arm around his back until he could sit without assistance.

“Been a while since I’ve been knocked out quite so thoroughly,” Sinbad grunted, rubbing at his head to fight the pain.

“Yes…it’s rather annoying,” Ja’far huffed, eyes still raking over Sinbad’s form to ensure there were no injuries to see to. “Do you remember what happened? Or perhaps…where we are now?” he asked, glancing around warily. “Wait a moment…”

Sinbad’s face split into a grin, a stark difference from the pained grimace of moments before.

“This is that island, the little one just off the coast of Balbadd,” Sinbad smirked. “You know, the one where—“

“Where you drank yourself stupid, bedded a wanting whore and got yourself robbed blind? Oh, excuse me—got _us_ robbed blind.”

Sinbad rolled his eyes, waving the accusation off. “It was…an oversight,” he allowed, standing unsteadily with Ja’far following suit.

“An oversight that cost us a month’s provisions and even more time trying to come up with the assets we lost,” Ja’far replied drily.

“Ah, but I’ve still got possession of my greatest asset yet,” Sinbad grinned, turning to put a finger under Ja’far’s chin in a slow gesture of affection.

Ja’far raised an eyebrow, thoroughly unimpressed. “Try again when we’re not stranded and…why are we here, again?”

The question brought Sinbad pause, his brow furrowing in thought.

“I was…in the palace,” he started.

“I was looking over some documents regarding the changes in tariffs with Artemyra…when I was summoned by—“

He turned his head at the same time as Sinbad, their gazes meeting in mutual dread.

_“Yamuraiha.”_

“Well,” Sinbad sighed, “at least this wasn’t the work of dark magic, or…other unsavory people. And, now that we know _where_ we are, no thanks to that botched teleportation spell, we can work on getting home…” Sinbad trailed off, glancing to Ja’far.

“We’re going _straight home._ This place isn’t what it used to be; it’s more a thief’s den than a drunken tavern port now. You know better than anyone how far Balbadd’s economy has fallen.”

Sinbad shot him a slight pout, but relented, following Ja’far’s lead. The sun was setting quickly, and though Ja’far was sure of his king’s skills and his own, he didn’t want to be caught in the dark by an unwelcome guest.

A short hike and a walk down the beaten road leading toward the coast of the island, and the town Sinbad remembered so fondly came into view. The lights from the houses and taverns and the raucous laughter reached them quickly, the sun set and the night alive with the people moving within it.

Sinbad frowned, cocking his head as he took in the sight and sound and, now that they were close enough, the rich scent of roasted chicken and frying fish that wafted up on the salty sea air. A wave of nostalgia caused an aching in his chest, but it wasn’t long before confusion won him over.

“Thought you said this was a barren wasteland, full of bandits and lowlives,” Sinbad murmured, glancing to his advisor.

“…It is,” Ja’far answered slowly, incredulously. “This isn’t possible…I’ve seen this island recently myself, it’s run down and impoverished; it doesn’t look like this anymore.”

“Maybe it bounced back?” Sinbad mused, leaning against the trunk of a nearby tree as he observed the merriment stretched out before them.

Ja’far shot a glare at him, barely able to contain a frustrated snarl. “Yes, and Balbadd has escaped the hold of that organization all on its own without my knowledge. Very plausible.”

“Calm yourself, love. Things are not what they appear to be.”

Ja’far huffed a sigh, crossing his arms and frowning. “Then we are still at a disadvantage. Perhaps caution is the better part of valor, for now.”

Sinbad nodded before something caught his attention as he stood up straight, leaning forward and looking toward the harbor, his eyes squinting in the darkness.

“Perhaps the question isn’t where or why…I think it might be _when._ ”

Ja’far followed his gaze, moving to stand next to his king.

“That’s my ship. The one that…burned.”

Sinbad’s voice was even, emotionless in the way Ja’far knew he was pushing down his grief. He looked up to his king’s silhouette before he let his head lean against Sinbad’s shoulder, knowing there was nothing he could say, nothing that would make either one of them feel better about what had happened in the past.

“Won’t do to stand here in silence. Let’s go figure out what’s going on,” Sinbad murmured after several minutes.

Ja’far nodded, following as Sinbad walked down the path and toward the town. With so many drunk patrons around, staggering and falling into stupors in every alley they passed, it wasn’t difficult to lift a cloak here and an overcoat there. Ja’far tied his cloak closed, lifting the hood over his hair as Sinbad pulled his long ponytail over his shoulder, shrugging the coat on and pulling the collar high. They made their way into a tavern, Ja’far crooking a finger at the girl behind the bar, drinks appearing at their table shortly thereafter.

“This truly is the past, isn’t it?” Ja’far murmured, his eyes darting around the bar, ever watching for danger.

“It appears so.” Sinbad leaned back, not even touching his drink. “How do we escape the wrong time? I’m certain my vessels still work, but none of them have time travel capabilities.”

Ja’far was quiet for a time, before his eyes were wide, his hand shooting out to grab at Sinbad’s wrist.

“Sin, that magical device you won from Vepar’s dungeon, do you remember? The one you kept on the ship that always took you to where you wanted to go?”

Sinbad raised an eyebrow, nodding. “The one that was stolen on that night you’ll never let me forget?”

“Yes,” he started, “If we combine that with the power of your djinn, perhaps he can lead us home. After all, he’s lead us through more treacherous waters, correct?”

Sinbad considered for a moment before shrugging, reaching for his mug and taking a long draught. “Worth a shot, I suppose. Though I’m not sure how a mermaid djinn will swim us through time, rather than water.”

“It’s about taking us to where we want to be. And besides, I don’t hear you coming up with any other bright ideas.”

“Right. Well, the question then is, where is it right now?”

Ja’far bit his lip, looking away. “If this is when I believe it is…I think…I will stop holding that robbery against you.”

Sinbad raised his eyebrows, leaning forward. “ _You_ …you’re going to rob me? _You’re_ the one that’s going to rob me blind?” He was laughing before he knew it, almost doubled over with mirth. “This is too perfect, I can’t believe it,” he wheezed.

Ja’far waited with a glower on his face until Sinbad was in control of himself again. He sighed, going through the options in his head.

“You always kept that trinket in your cabin when it wasn’t in use. Since they’re—we’re?—in port right now, I assume that’s where it is. I’ll have to sneak on once you’ve passed out for the night…” Ja’far trailed off as he noticed Sinbad watching him with that lecherous smirk he wore when he knew he was getting something he wanted.

“It will be impossible to get in the cabin after I’m in there, considering _you_ —that is, the you of the past—or is it now?—will be keeping watch nearby.”

“While I’m quite good at blending in with the shadows, your cabin was—is?—quite small, and there is nowhere I can feasibly hide without being seen, even if you were quite as drunk as I seem to remember…so I cannot wait in hiding beforehand.”

“What is it about that night that you always like to remind me of…all of our things were stolen by a…what was it?” His smirk grew. “A _wanting whore_?”

Ja’far paled. “It…that wasn’t me. It couldn’t have been—“

“I think we both know you’re my type.” He looked Ja’far over, never mind the cloak over his robes.

“No.”

Sinbad licked his lips.

“No!”

“I don’t hear you coming up with any other bright ideas,” he mimicked Ja’far from earlier.

“Mature,” Ja’far deadpanned.

“As always. And so,” Sinbad downed his drink, chuckling. “You’ll need a different wardrobe. I’ll see if I can’t find something worthy.” He stood and disappeared into the crowd before Ja’far could protest, leaving him wilted and flushed, nursing his drink in his king’s absence.

“I’ve found the perfect thing,” Sinbad smirked up on his return, offering a hand after dropping a few coins onto the table. “Come, let’s get you ready. I already know where we need to go.”

Worse than just a tavern girl’s outfit, Ja’far donned some kind of dancer’s attire. There were all kinds of beads and not nearly enough actual material, and it wrapped tightly around his waist and at his hips, draped at his shoulders and hung down—but not nearly long enough to cover his stomach. There was a hood as well, to cover his hair with a sheer veil that hid his freckles.

“This is the _worst_ idea. You’ll recognize me, disguise or no.”

“I’ll be drunk as a skunk,” Sinbad reassured him, taking in the sight and memorizing every detail. “I won’t be expecting a quite so adult Ja’far, don’t worry. Just…make sure you don’t see you. I think that will be our biggest worry.”

Ja’far nodded, huffing a sigh. “Well, I suppose if I’m going to do this, I ought to do this right.” Ja’far hiked the material up higher on his thighs, and pulled the shawl at his neck lower so that his collarbone and shoulders were showing, pale skin nearly glowing in the lantern light.

“…What are you doing?” Sinbad asked slowly, watching with baited breath.

“I know what you like,” Ja’far answered, rolling his eyes. “This will help.”

Sinbad swallowed, nodding. “I suppose you do. Let’s, ah…let’s get going, then,” he muttered, his hand falling to Ja’far’s waist without thought. “That tavern, over there,” Sinbad pointed at possibly the loudest building around. “I’m certain I was in there. Go in, push whatever wench I’m entertaining off, and demand my attention.” He leered at Ja’far, smirking. “You know how much I love when you take command.”

“Fine. You keep watch, make sure there aren’t guards, or…me, after us.”

“Yes, sir.” Sinbad pulled Ja’far to him, lifting the veil and pressing a kiss to his mouth, lingering as long as he could.

Ja’far pushed him away, repositioning his clothing after Sinbad had gotten too handsy.

“Watch for _trouble,_ not me,” he reminded, before turning away and taking a breath, rolling his shoulders back and adding a sway to his hips, strutting into the tavern and searching inside for his mark.

“Fat chance,” Sinbad muttered, though he opted to stand outside and watch through the window, rather than following him in.

Within the tavern, it wasn’t difficult to find a younger Sinbad in the middle, laughing brashly and pulling the woman in his lap closer for a messy kiss, his hands wandering over her breasts and down to her waist.

 _Hopefully drunk enough not to care,_ Ja’far thought helplessly, looking down at his own flat chest, barely concealed with enough loose fabric to disguise it.

It was almost difficult, looking at the Sinbad of the past, so much younger and carefree. He nearly chuckled at the braids fashioned to the side of his head, how he’d thought they’d made him look suave and intimidating (Ja’far couldn’t really argue, but that was beside the point). For a moment, he nearly considered putting a stop to the ruse, to warn this Sinbad of the perils to come—to change the darkness he knew was looming in his very near future. He glanced to another corner of the bar, breath catching as he caught sight of Mystras’s shock of red hair, trying to be as popular as Sinbad but not quite getting there. His heart ached, and he nearly reached out for the boy he’d lost so many years before…

He couldn’t. He knew he couldn’t. He might fix things…or make them even worse than they’d already turned out. Time was fickle, and dangerous. With a resolute breath, he looked away from Mystras and toward Sinbad once more, regaining his confident aura and grabbing a full mug from a table before marching up to him, gaining his drunken attention immediately.

“Hello, beautiful. Where’ve you been hiding?” Sinbad slurred, pushing the girl on his lap toward one of the other patrons, letting Ja’far slink forward and perch on his knee.

“I’ve been here all along, master. Just waiting for the right moment.” Ja’far looked up from underneath his lashes demurely, running a hand along Sinbad’s arm while pushing the drink into one of his hands.

“Right moment? Every moment is right for you,” Sinbad grinned, reeking of alcohol as he drank even more. Ja’far ignored it, leaning closer and running his hand up to rest on Sinbad’s chest, then up to run along his jawline.

“Too true. I think…” Ja’far reached over, grabbing a glass in one hand and a bottle in the other. He filled the cup and replaced it with the empty one, pushing it toward his lips, “I need another drink.”

Ja’far pretended to drink as well, keeping his mouth closed as he brought a second glass to his lips, lifting the sheer veil for a moment.

“Right. Enough now, though…come, did you know I’ve a ship? A grand ship, perfect for your…you.”

“Yes, I’m certain,” Ja’far agreed, internally rolling his eyes at how very easy Sinbad was (and still is). “A fine ship for a fine captain.”

“Ah, you can tell? It’s how I hold myself, I’m sure,” Sinbad laughed. They stepped outside the tavern, Sinbad nearly tripping, before catching himself and using his momentum to pin Ja’far against the wall (next to himself), running his hand up Ja’far’s thigh and around to grab at his ass. “Care to go for a midnight sail, beautiful?”

“Always,” whispered breathily his fingers clutching at Sinbad’s shoulders as he was picked up bridal style, Sinbad’s footing a bit more sure than it had been moments before.

“So curvy, for such a slip of a thing,” Sinbad commented as he walked down the street, laughing loudly.

Ja’far glanced behind, raising his eyebrows at the Sinbad following them from several feet behind.

He couldn’t look for long, too anxious that the drunken, younger version of his lover would drop him or perhaps walk them both off of the dock and into the ocean.

Luckily, he made it to the ship Ja’far had called home for a time without incident, walking up the board and onto the deck, yelling a brazen hello to the crew that lingered, Ja’far catching sight of a very small Masrur for just a moment, who glanced at him with narrowed eyes before Sinbad had him in his cabin, the door kicked closed behind them.

“Sin—“

“Mmm, now’s not the time for talk,” he murmured, pulling Ja’far to him and pulling the veil from his face. It was dark, luckily, with only moonlight filtering in from the window to the side, and with Sinbad’s level of intoxication, he was certain his identity was safe. He let Sinbad push him against the wall, felt his mouth wet on his neck, biting hard, hands slipping under the thin material draped over his shoulders.

“Ah, wait—“

When he didn’t find what he was after, Sinbad broke away for a moment to stare in confusion at Ja’far’s chest.

“Oh,” he said after a moment, finally understanding. “Not to worry,” Sinbad smirked, putting his mouth on Ja’far’s shoulder, his hand gliding down to grab at Ja’far’s thigh, and at the hardness between his legs. “I go for all kinds.”

Ja’far squeaked, helpless to rut into his hand for a moment, rough though the touch was. His hands dug into Sinbad’s shoulders, hips rolling gently. He found himself pushed into the cot in the corner, Sinbad’s weight heavy on top of him, hands pulling at the sash tied around his hips and at his own trousers. Ja’far saw he was marveling at the paleness of his skin, at the way his legs splayed on either side of his hips. It was too dark for him to see the scars marring his thighs, hopefully—either way, he didn’t seem concerned…only hungry, his eyes dark with a lust that Ja’far was only too familiar with.

He saw the cabin door open and close from over Sinbad’s shoulder, and panicked for a moment before a fist connected with Sinbad’s head, knocking him out. The weight landing on Ja’far took the breath out of him, his eyes widening in surprise.

“What—“ Ja’far started, gasping and struggling to hide his face.

“The plan was to _distract_ him, not _sleep_ with him.”

The Sinbad of now, or the future—Ja’far was confusing himself—was glaring at him, pulling his past-self up long enough for Ja’far to slip out from underneath him, and dropping him unceremoniously onto his face.

“And you don’t think _that_ will cause some problems later?” Ja’far frowned, gesturing at the unconscious Sinbad as he straightened his clothing, what little there was of it.

“He deserved it,” Sinbad sniffed. “And he’ll blame it on the rum when he wakes. I see you’re doing well on your end of the deal. Where is the item, by the way? Hiding between your legs?”

Ja’far glowered at him. “This was _your_ idea, Sin. Don’t tell me you’re jealous of yourself, of all things.” He paused, thinking for a moment, before he shook his head. “Actually, that sounds _exactly_ like something you’d do. It’s still unwarranted, though.”

“Just how far were you planning to let him take this? Cause from where I was standing, you were about as ready as he was to just go for it,” Sinbad glared.

“Is this really the time to be discussing this?” Ja’far hissed, watching the shadows move outside the cabin door. “How did you get in here undetected?”

“About that…”

“Sin!”

“Let’s just hurry,” Sinbad grunted, shouldering past Ja’far and opening a drawer on the desk at the end of the room, and pulling out a small, wooden box from within and pocketing it quickly, along with all of the conspicuously expensive things that were lying about in the open.

“Why are you taking all of that?” Ja’far whispered shrilly, on the verge of a panic attack as it was.

“If only one magical item is missing, I’ll be much more suspicious than if it appears it was just a regular, greedy thief,” Sinbad explained in a hurry, before he paused in front of the door. “We must move quickly. I’m certain Masrur saw me, and was confused. I don’t know if he’d tell anybody, but I didn’t see you around earlier, so…let’s just…hurry,” he finished lamely, offering a smile over his shoulder before he opened the door and walked out onto the deck as though he belonged as much as any of the rest of them there.

Ja’far followed quickly, trying to regain his air of confidence, but he was too anxious. He was an assassin, not a spy and certainly not any kind of an actor. Sinbad, he could deal with—the rest of this, not so much.

They made it off of the ship and down the dock some ways without incident, before Sinbad pulled him into an alleyway with nothing but several barrels piled up near the end.

“I can’t believe that worked,” Sinbad laughed, pulling Ja’far to him tightly.

“I can’t believe you got so upset about yourself getting laid,” Ja’far answered drily, but he smiled in amusement.

“Hey, only _I_ get to touch this sweet ass. And I mean _me_ , the me of _now_ , or of the future? I…you understand what I’m saying.”

“I understand. However, I think you were just afraid I would notice how much younger you are in this time. Perhaps you have a question of stamina?” Ja’far teased, knowing he was entering dangerous waters.

Sinbad glared, not amused. “I’ll show you stamina right here, should you continue your goading. And here I’d even thought to bring that cloak you wore from earlier…it appears you don’t _really_ need it. Perhaps I should discard it.”

“Gimme,” Ja’far grunted, pulling it from Sinbad’s grasp and pulling it over his shoulders, ripping the gaudy dancer’s hood from his hair and shaking it out before pulling the cloak’s heavy hood over his head in its place.

“We need to go,” Sinbad sighed, letting Ja’far’s teasing drop. “Before we change something that shouldn’t be changed.”

Ja’far nearly felt a pang of guilt for his earlier temptations at Sinbad’s words, and nodded in agreement. “Wake Vepar, we’ll make for that clearing in the woods we were in earlier. Hopefully we won’t need anything else.” Something caught Ja’far’s attention, pulling at the senses he’d honed as an assassin. “Go on ahead of me, lest we attract attention. I will follow in a minute.”

Sinbad raised an eyebrow, but nodded. He pulled his collar high, glanced to Ja’far once more and left, walking easily into the crowd and toward the forest at the edge of the town. Ja’far watched him for a moment before he turned to the barrels at the end of the alleyway, making certain his hood covered his hair and face.

“Come out; I know you’re there,” he called out.

As he figured, his younger self appeared slowly from behind the obstruction, glaring dangerously at him.

“If you hurt Sin, I will kill you,” his child self hissed, hands on daggers too big for his grip.

Ja’far bit back a smile, kneeling down. “He’ll survive. I promise. Come here a moment.”

The child moved closer, still ready to spring into attack.

Ja’far reached his arms out, putting them on his small shoulders and gripping them tightly.

“I need you to look out for him. Even more than you already do,” Ja’far whispered, biting his lip and wondering how much he should say. “He is…nearing some very difficult times. You all are. Please, support him and guide him, keep him from falling…into something bad.”

His younger self frowned, arms lowering slightly from their tense position.

“…Who are you?” he asked, reaching for the hood obscuring his face.

“Don’t.” He grabbed the boy’s smaller hands and curled them within his own grip. “Please, just trust that he will need you more than you realize in the coming days. Be there for him. You need each other…” he trailed off, realizing he would be missed very soon. He stood abruptly, his cloak shifting with the movement. “Believe in him.”

With that, Ja’far turned and left the alleyway, melting into the crowd and toward his waiting king, only to leave that time altogether with the aid of Vepar’s magic only minutes later.


End file.
